


Taming The Lion

by gaialux



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-09 18:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaialux/pseuds/gaialux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taming The Lion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lunadesangre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunadesangre/gifts).



> All the Wizard of Oz references I could possibly cram in (well, maybe not that many, but there's a lot).

Miguel says Ryan saved him.  
  
Ryan says it was just a case of right place, right time. He only saved Miguel from El Norte because Torquemada is one messed son of a bitch and Ryan doesn't want to swim alone in a pond of sobriety. He'll bring Miguel down —  _up?_  Whatever, things get twisted in Oz — with him. Besides, there was only so much he could take of watching Miguel get his cock sucked by someone as creepy as Torquemada.  
  
Soon after, Torquemada starts calling himself the Wizard of Oz now because of those little green pills he keeps passing out.  
  
"What does that make us?" Miguel asks one night, spitting toothpaste into the stained silver sink.  
  
"Huh?" Ryan props an arm under his head and looks up, watching Miguel in the mirror. He has the weirdest way of brushing his teeth, first one side and then the other.  
  
"Like in the movie — you got Dorothy, Tinman, Scarecrow, Lion. Hot witch, ugly witch. Y'know?" Miguel spits again and turns. "If Alonzo rules this place, what does that make the rest of us?"  
  
"You thought the blonde witch was hot?" Ryan raises his eyebrows at the image in the mirror. He might not have seen the movie since he got to Oz, but he remembers her as a chick in a big pink dress. "Man, you gotta start looking at more porn."  
  
Miguel grins, that toothy grin Ryan doesn't see much of these days. And when he does, it's for him. Only for him. "I got you, baby. Could dress you in a pink dress, give you a wand. Tap your heels three times and we're outta here."  
  
Ryan grins. "If that were the case, I'd totally go for the dress. But..." he stretches out the word as he gets up from his bunk. "Don't think that's gonna work, sorry."  
  
"Too bad. You in a dress? Might've made things more interesting around here."  
  
Ryan whacks him at the back of the head and Miguel lifts his hands, gripping them onto Ryan's waist. He's got big hands, solid. Nothing like Shannon's or any of those other women he’s fucked. Just Miguel's. Unique. Like the rest of him.  
  
"And if we're in The Land of Oz?" Ryan says. "I call us Tinman and Lion."  
  
::  
  
Before Miguel, Ryan was proud of his no fag status. Boasted about it, even. Especially to Beecher, because that guy wasn't even a prag. He fucked guys because he enjoyed it. Fucked Keller because he _loved_  him (and look how that turned out). But now he thinks he kinda gets it. Him and Miguel aren't like Beecher and Keller, but they got something.  
  
At first it's Ryan protecting Miguel. But Miguel's still never been his prag. Miguel's just Miguel. For a long time after that Ryan thought he was just craving touch. He'd been starved of it since conjugals were taken away, and even then Shannon hardly ever let him fuck her anymore. Always so worried about Cyril because she didn't get Cyril was  _fine_  and still  _capable_.  
  
And then, one day, he's got Miguel crowded up against him in the showers and he's trying to touch every part of Miguel’s body. Mostly, though, he focuses on Miguel's mouth because it's hot against the busted water system and tastes  _clean_. The first clean, pure thing to ever exist within the walls of Oz. He tries to take some of that purity, tries to fix himself up, but always leaves enough for Miguel.  
He apparently saved him after all.  
  
::  
  
Torquemada always watches. How he manages to stay in Em City, Ryan will never know. Miguel was thrown in solitary for less (and more, but so was Ryan so he's not one to judge), but Torquemada just keeps on walking around, ruling the place. Ryan can't convince McManus to even move him to a new pod. Apparently letting him and Miguel share was a favour, adds in a very specific look that makes Ryan want to roll his eyes. Then he pulls the Cyril card and Ryan wants to punch his face.  
  
Miguel, the crazy fucker, says they should embrace it. "He wanna watch?" he says. "Let him watch."  
  
Ryan keeps his eyes on Torquemada and slowly shakes his head. "Not him." Not that cocksucker. The one who told Ryan he was gonna win Miguel back one way or another.  _mina o nada_. Ryan doesn't have to speak the language to understand what that means.  _tú bás_. Because Ryan knows enough Irish to make threats. "Can get your exhibition kicks somewhere else."  
  
But Miguel still tests his luck — Miguel is always testing his luck lately — and gets onto Ryan’s bunk. He's always been one skinny motherfucker, but eight months by Torquemada's side means he can slide himself, quite easily, between Ryan and the pod wall. Face one huge, cocky grin. Miguel is gonna be the death of Ryan, but there are worse ways to go.  
  
"Could put on a show," Miguel says. He traces a hand down Ryan's side, fingers sliding under the elastic of Ryan’s boxers. And Ryan can still see Torquemada. Watching. "Alonzo loves shows."  
  
Ryan manages to turn, shoving Miguel further back against the pod wall. "Since when the fuck do we do what he wants?"  
  
Miguel's still got a shit-eating grin on his face. "Relax, chico. Was only messing. You got me away from him, uh? Just let him kill the rest of Em City."  
  
Ryan kinda liked that plan.  
  
::  
  
"We're gonna get outta here."  
  
Miguel whispers the words against Ryan's ear in the middle of the night. At least he figures it's the middle of the night. It's dark and there's no sounds of people being murdered. Telltale middle of night signs in Ryan's book.  
  
"What're you talking about?" Ryan manages to mumble. He's starting to think Miguel never sleeps. Side effects of those pills, must be.  
  
"You 'n me, baby," Miguel says. His stubble slides against Ryan's face, almost tickles. "Already got out once. Taking you with me this time."  
  
It's hard to make out Miguel’s features in the darkness, but Ryan can still see his silhouette and feel the heat coming from his body. Ryan's personal radiator. "And how are you gonna do that,?" He shakes his head. He's got no idea what the hell brought this on. "You're fucking crazy, Alvarez. Get some sleep."  
  
"No, no, no." He grips Ryan's shoulder so hard it starts hurting. He might be skinny, but he's got a lethal grip. "Listen to me. I'm still working in the hospital, yeah? Busmalis is outta solitary, working on another tunnel. He'll let me through it —  _us_."  
  
Ryan forces himself to sit up, to look Miguel in the eye, to see what the hell he's playing at. Miguel's eyes are wide, flashing, wild. He's just as crazy as Torquemada.  
  
"What happened the last time, huh? Trust me, man, I wanna get out, but —"  
  
"No." Miguel's face is right up against Ryan's. "You trust me." He pauses before leaning down to kiss Ryan. "Okay?"  
  
Ryan tried to escape before. Got Gloria behind the whole idea, before she backed out and left Cyril to die. And he knows why Miguel wants this. Knows the parole board is never going to let him out. He’s already tasted freedom, tells Ryan about it almost everyday. How the air is clean and the wind is freezing, but perfect. So perfect. And the sun, the fucking sun. The sun will be so different, so fucking different and better than Ryan could ever remember.  
  
Miguel's still looking at him, eyes still wide and bright, when Ryan says, "Alright. Okay. But Jesus Christ, let me sleep."  
  
::  
  
Ryan overhears Miguel and Busmalis talking for weeks after that. Dropping different dates every time. Different  _years_  at some points, but Ryan keeps his mouth shut because Miguel seems to know what he's doing. Or at least Ryan hopes he does. Because McManus has started watching them. Two fucking sets of eyes always staring at them.  
  
McManus bothers him a lot less. Because McManus is a bit of a pussy. Even if he forces them all into his office, they won't talk. And McManus won't raise a fist. Nobody can prove anything, and Ryan's starting to think it might just be possible to get the fuck outta dodge. Well, get out — but then he has no idea what they'll do after that.  
  
"They caught you," he tells Miguel after light's out. That's the only time they really talk anymore, and Ryan won't admit it, but he misses the other times. Misses Miguel smiling at him or throwing cards in his face when Ryan beats him at poker (again, and again, and again, because Miguel spends too much time staring Ryan's lips). "You got a new and improved plan yet?"  
  
"Mexico," Miguel says without hesitation.  
  
Ryan isn't sure whether to laugh or insult him, so he chooses to roll his eyes instead. "And how do you propose we do that? The border's on the other fucking side of America."  
  
"Walk," Miguel says, like it's the simplest explanation someone could ever make. Walk. Walk the whole of the USA.  
  
"We're gonna need those ruby slippers," Ryan says with a scoff. "God. You really are fucking crazy."  
  
::  
  
One day, Ryan gets a chance to try and kill Torquemada. Only stipulation: Torquemada's gotta bust him up first. Not badly, Miguel keeps insisting — it's the first time he sees Miguel's eyes fade since he first came up with the escape plan — just gotta be enough to get Ryan into the infirmary. If it were up to to Miguel, Ryan would be complaining of a headache, but Ryan’s not gonna pass up the opportunity to get some payback before leaving. He hates Torquemada. Constantly. Every single time he sees him he just thinks about what he did to Miguel.  
  
Before Ryan gets out of here,Torquemada is gonna pay.  
  
It's not hard. Wherever Miguel lingers, Torquemada is within striking distance. Usually with his mouth by someone's ear, flick of his wrist and one of those little pills pops into sight. How the hacks don't notice Ryan will never understand, but he's not a snitch. He'd rather pay eye-for-eye — and Torquemada's only got one left.  
  
"Yo," he calls when he decides just to go for it. He refuses to tell Miguel the exact moment because he thinks something will slip. Or Miguel will stop him. Can't risk that. Not when they're so close. "Got any of them for me  _compadre_?"  
  
Torquemada has built himself an army. Every single Latino flocks him by now. All except Miguel. But it's the most piss-poor army Ryan's ever seen (and, growing up on the streets of New York City streets, he's seen a lot half-assed attempts). They're all just a bunch sky-high drug addicts, protecting their wizard because he promises them a way home. Torquemada thinks he's holding the ruby slippers. All he's got is the hot air balloon.  
  
"I don't sell to you," Torquemada says.  
  
"Think I'm the only one left you can sell to," Ryan tells him, sliding into a seat. He holds up a bundle of bills. "C'mon."  
  
Torquemada just laughs. "You could sell me your bitch. Might be a fair trade."  
  
Exactly what Ryan is expecting. Yeah. No. Not gonna happen. So Ryan just goes for it. Shank meet Torquemada.  
  
Ryan doesn't even get to see it happen, but he can feel the blade dig into flesh. Then he's on his ass sliding along the floor until hands grip his shirt and a fist collides with his face. After that, it's all reflex. Ryan doesn't even know who he's punching and kicking. Just that their fists are clumsy as hell and none of them are Torquemada. He has to force himself to stop, let them get in some punches.  
  
He doesn't remember anything after that. Not until he gets to the infirmary, opens his eyes, and Miguel is staring down at him.  
  
"Tonight," Miguel whispers into his mouth. "And Torquemada ain't dead."  
  
_Fuck_. But one outta two ain't bad.  
  
::   
  
"Ready?"  
  
"What d'you think?"  
  
::   
  
_Isla de Guadalupe_. That's where Miguel takes them. Nobody knows them here; news hasn't reached the ears of the populace, and they spend more time fishing than they do watching TV, anyway. It's always sunny. Hot rays beat down on Ryan's back constantly because he never wants to go inside. He's burnt within a week, back red and angry, but he doesn't care.  
  
"Didn't I say I was gonna get you out?" Miguel asks. At least once a day. When they're eating, or fucking, or just lying in the grass and staring up at the sky.  
  
"Might've mentioned it," Ryan responds, lazy smile on his face.  
  
"You save me," Miguel says, right up next to Ryan's ear. His breath is even warmer than the sun. "So I save you. Okay?"  
  
"Mmm," Ryan murmurs in agreement.  
  
"So Tinman found a heart and Lion found courage, uh?" Miguel is still by his ear, each word floating across Ryan's skin.  
  
"Didn't you watch the end of that movie?" Ryan yawns and closes his eyes. The sun beats steadily against his back and the side of his face. Where it doesn't hit, Miguel's body covers his skin. "Always had it in 'em."


End file.
